The Tevinter Slaves
by Wbrooks
Summary: AU. Marian Hawke is a young child living in an Antivan city close to the Tevinter border. One night, her relatively peaceful existence comes crashing down around her. Eventual HawkexFenris.
1. Chapter 1

Marian Hawke woke with a spring in her step one bright morning. She knew she would not have to work in her papa's shop until the evening, and so she scampered down the steps of their tiny house, pressed a kiss to mama's cheek, then papa's, and then raced out of the door.

As she scampered down the street, she was careful to keep her dirty feet from treading upon the long, trailing silks of the fine ladies of Seleny. Doing so would likely earn the ire of one of the grand lady's guards, who would give little thought to tossing an nine year old troublemaker into the stocks for a night and a day.

Even more dangerous was the odd man or woman on the street bearing the heraldry of the Crows. Some of Marian's friends weren't frightened of talking to the Crows, but she knew better. Or- her papa had told her better. Yes, the Crows were known to give the odd street rat a coin or two if they proved useful. But if a child her age showed themselves to be too useful, there was a fair chance they would be whisked away to Antiva City - and not on a sightseeing tour.

She successfully sidestepped past the ladies in finery, the hard-faced guards, and the smooth-talking Crows, and followed a familiar path to the Seleny Alienage. She slipped through the enormous Iron gate, offered a beaming smile to the elven guards. It didn't take her any time at all to reach her friend's home.

"Pito!" She called, cupping her small hands over her mouth for volume. A few moments later, an elf with firey red hair and a gap-toothed grin peeked his head out of one of the makeshift windows of the shack where his family lived.

"Marian!" He called back. "Hold on a moment-"

"Don't make me wait too long!" She said with a laugh, and he disappeared back into the shack. She spent the next few minutes scrawling circles in the dirt with the tip of her big toe until Pito emerged from the door with a basket of laundry held close to this chest.

"My aunt said all I have to do is deliver this washing to Filippa and then I'm free." He said, and Marian nodded, "Oh, and-" Pito glanced over his shoulder, "She said we have to take Alea."

Marian's face fell as Pito's shew-faced twin stepped into the light. She always found it difficult to believe that Alea could be related to Pito, considering how often they fought. When the baby came, Marian was determined that she and her brother or sister would never fight. "Hullo, Alea."

"Hello, Mare-ee-an." Alea said, intentionally mispronouncing Marian's name with her thick Northern accent, as she always did.

Marian rolled her eyes, "Let's go." She said, tossing her head. She let the elf twins out of the alienage and to the home of Filippa. On the way, Marian made a show of bumping into Pito for Alea and whoever may have been watching. "Sorry." She said, a little more loudly than necessary, and put her hand on the basket of washing.

She thought of feathers, clouds, and her father's cakes, and when she pulled her hand away, she could tell that Pito's burden had been significantly reduced. Pito was her very best friend in the world in the whole wide world, and so he could be trusted with the knowlege of her special gift. There was little else she could have done. Alea wouldn't have helped her brother, and Marian carrying the washing while Pito and Alea's elvish hands were empty would have roused unwanted attention.

They dropped the washing and a crumpled one-hundred andris note off at widow Filippa's. She was a very kind elderly woman, with dark blue eyes that sparkled with youthful vigor when she gave each of the children a piece of one of her dense berry cakes.

Marian was still nibbling on her slice of cake when the children were nearing the outskirts of Seleny. She hadn't eaten much of it, and was quick to break it in half and offer it to the twins, who had wolfed their pieces just as soon as they had passed into their hands. Alea took the cake with a greedy gleam in her eyes, Pito hesitated, but took the offering, as well. When he questioned the rumbling in her stomach, she just smiled and shook her head.

"There'll be roots I can eat in the swamp, anyway." She said with a light laugh.

The dense swamp that bordered the outskirts of Seleny offered very little to the respectable citizens of the city. But to the urchin children of foreginers such as young miss Marian. the swamp was the central setting of nearly every tall tale and fantasy that she had ever heard. Save for father's stories of great armies of dog lords, and mother's waxing poetic about a grand estate in a city she had never seen. But those stories were boring! Mother and father never spoke of witches or dragons or fish with enormous teeth.

"The swamp?" Alea's upper lip curled upwards in disgust. "We can't go there!" She looked to Pito, "Auntie will be so mad-"

Pito visibly recoiled from his sister, and he looked to Marian, hope in his face. Marian wasn't afraid of his aunt, and she wasn't afraid of his sister, either.

Marian put her hands on her hips, "Your Auntie won't be angry with us if we find treasure in the swamp, will she?" She asked.

Alea's brow furrowed, but she was clearly considering what Marian was saying. "Treasure?" She echoed. "How do you know there's treasure?"

"I have a treasure map, of course!" Marian said, and then bowed her head and put one hand to her mouth, as if she intended to confide her great secret to Alea and Alea alone. "I have it in my pocket, but I can't take it out here, or a crow might snap it up. So let's just go, and maybe you can bring your Auntie a sovereign, or a crown!"

"What's a sovereign?" Pito asked later, once he and Alea had fallen into step beside Marian.

"It's a kind of coin from Ferelden." Marian said, scanning the section of wall she had selected for them to slip out of and into the wilds. "Made from gold." She added, and Pito's eyes widened.

"I've never seen gold." He murmured.

"I saw a bit of gold once." Alea said smugly. "When the templars came to take Herion's baby brother. One of them had gold on their shield, Auntie said."

For the first time, Marian found herself envying Alea. Marian had seen gold before, of course, but she had never been close enough to see a Templar's shield in detail. Papa always kept her and Mama well away from the line of hard-faced templars that stood at the front of the Chantry during prayers. She would not, however, be saying anything to that effect. She refused to give Alea the satisfaction.

"What did it look like?" She heard Pito ask his sister as she scanned the wall for the crack she had discovered mere days ago when she and Papa had left the city to hunt spiders for the chantry.

"Here!" She called, and waved Pito and Alea over to a section of the wall that had been covered up with a large board. Marian pushed the board aside, revealing two child-sized packs and, more importantly, a child-sized hole in the wall.

"We shouldn't do this-" Alea whined as Marian and Pito pulled on the packs.

"The Chant of Light says that Andraste favors the bold." Marian replied, knowing that bringing up Andraste was sure to shut Alea up.

She was right. Alea pursed her lips again, but said nothing. Marian grinned, and ducked into the hold in the wall. Once she emerged outside of Seleny, she put her hand to her brow and looked towards the west. The Tellari Swamps darkened the horizon. Marian couldn't wait.

She led the twins to an unpaved sideroad that headed towards the swamp. As they walked, she explained the story that she would tell anyone who happened upon them.

"My papa is a hunter, and we're bringing him his lunch." She said with a firm nod of her head. "And you two are my servants, because I'm a noble and I'm too stupid to be let out of the city without someone to come with me." She and Pito shared a laugh at that, and she swore that she could see a smile on Alea's face, for a brief moment, at least.

The sun was high in the sky, warming the scruffy black top of Marian's hair, when they reached the first outcrop of those strange spindly trees that characterized Antivan swamps. Witches' fingers, they were called, for their twisted forms. They had a proper name, but not one known to bright-eyed urchin children.

Marian took a cheese knife from her pack and carved an 'X' into the trunk of the first tree. "So people can follow our path when they hear the story about us." She said with a confident grin as she replaced the knife on her belt.

"You can barely see it." Alea said scornfully, though she seemed more disappointed than annoyed.

"Well, when we come back and we have the sword of King Favien, we'll make some proper markings!" Pito exclaimed, excitement bubbling in his voice. And with good reason, Marian knew this must have been the furthest that either of them had ever gone from Seleny.

The clumps of Witches' fingers grew more and more dense as they traveled down the road until, finally, the beams of sunlight became few and far-between. The sound of the warm Antivan winds rustling through the tall grasses was replaced with the chirping of crickets and the soft cries of kestrels above the treeline. Despite the encroaching darkness, Marian was able to keep Pito and Alea distracted with her Papa's stories of his home land.

"And the daring Black Fox cut the rope from his love's neck, and they leaped down off of the gallows and tore into the streets of Rivani's capital!" She exclaimed, throwing her hands into the air, fingers spread.

"But where did he find the unicorn?" Alea asked skeptically, her brow furrowed.

"Shh-" Pito said, his eyes wide, eager to hear more.

Marian exhausted every story she knew, regaling the twins even as she began to get an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. The first time they passed a tree covered in cobwebs, Marian decided to turn along the path to a smaller, less clearly-marked trail. She chatted on and on, even as they took a break to snack on the sandwiches she had packed. She gave Alea leave to eat her own provisions and instead opted to climb to the top of an enormous log, squinting to peer into the swamp.

"Marian." Alea said through a mouthful of crumbs. "Do you think we ought to have a look at your map now?"

Pito nodded, "Yeah, Marian! This is a grand adventure already, but we have to find treasure for it to be a real quest- like your King Maric's!"

Marian didn't face her friends for a moment, and then turned, hopping off of the log. "There is treasure around here!" She said with her best and widest smile. "But I've memorized the map already, and I know which way-" She turned on her heel, squinting into the thick air of the swamp. "- to go." She glanced back to Alea and Pito, "So pack up camp, heroes! And we'll find our gold!"

They continued along the trail until it was nothing but porous mud. Once they were walking in water and weeds up to their knees, Alea began to complain again. "I don't like this-" She whimpered, glancing nervously around herself. Pito looked equally unnerved.

"Maybe we should see the map now, Marian.." He said softly, glancing up nervously into the trees.

Marian, who was beginning to feel a chill from the water that was soaking through her tunic, gave a little shudder. "It'll just be a little further onward-" She said, sounding much more confident than she felt. She glanced over her shoulder to watch as Alea tripped over a root and tumbled face-first into the muck. Pito rushed to help his sister back to her feet, but Marian hung back, unwilling to touch the other girl.

Alea's eyes were bright red, "I want to go home!" She wailed, "This is stupid!"

"Shh!" Marian exclaimed, eyes widening. She heard a snap amongst the tree trunks. "Be quiet." She bit down hard on her lower lip, enough to taste copper.

"We won't stay another moment unless you show us the map!" Alea shouted, stamping a petulant foot into the marsh. All three children heard a much louder splash than Alea's tiny foot should have made.

"Don't move." Marian whispered, and Alea fell silent, while all of the color drained out of Pito's face. It was in these moments that Marian realized that the sounds of both the crickets and the kestrals had disappeared. They remained silent as the grave for so long that eventually Marian's hearing was dominated by the sound of her heart pounding in her ears. "It's alright." She whimpered, "It's alright." She squeezed her eyes shut and focused on the fen around them, reaching out with all of her being for safety. Finally, she felt a soft glimmer of light, and her eyes opened.

"This way-" She said, pointing towards the source fo the feeling. Alea's lower lip quivered, but Pito nodded, trusting his friend fully. "-careful." Slowly, the trio began to move through the swamp again. Marian pressed them forward, ignoring the scratching and the sound of scuttling feet that cut through the trees. Finally, panic and fear took over Marian's determination.

"Run!" She shouted, and Alea let out a piercing shriek as a shadow crossed in front of them. "Run!" She cried once more, and all three children broke into a sprint. They had barely gone ten feet when the scratching and scuttling gave away to inhuman screeches.

"Spiders!" Pito exclaimed in disbelief.

"Spiders!" Alea cried out, tears streaming down her muddy cheeks.

'Spiders!' Marian thought to herself, and felt a jolt of excitement stab through her chest - was this how the Wardens felt when facing down an Archdemon? Was this how father and mother had felt while running from the templars in Ferelden? Was this how the Queen had felt when she had been stabbed through with four steel swords?

"Marian!" Pito exclaimed, and then was silenced forever by the snapping together by enormous mandibles. Alea shrieked as her brother's blood sprayed across her face.

"No!" Marian shouted, but it was far, far too late. Though the air was warm, and the marsh was warm, all she felt was cold.

She was broken from her revelry by Alea's fingernails digging into her arm. "Marian, run!" She cried in anguish, pushing the other girl forward. They stumbled through the muck, trying to ignore the sickening sounds of the enormous spider wrapping Pito's motionless form in its webbing.

Tears streamed down Marian's cheeks and she and Alea pushed through the marsh.

"I hate you!" Alea cried, but clung close.

"Shut up!" Marian shouted back, trying to listen to the light that cut like a beacon through the bloody darkness of the swamp. "Run. run!"

She didn't know how long it took, but eventually the water gave way to mud and then to a thick tangle of grass and strange white flowers. Marian's foot caught on a root and she tripped, sending both girls tumbling to the ground in a bloody, mud-caked heap. They lay still in the grass for a moment, breathing heavily, chests heaving and hands shaking.

Marian pushed herself up to her elbows, and then to her knees and looked up, feeling the light burning so brightly that she thought she might go blind. But when she looked up, instead of seeing a lantern or a light, she was staring into the face of a man with a thick black beard and a cloak that covered his form in shadow.

Slowly, more men emerged from the trees, speaking in a language that Marian didn't recognize. Most of the men wore thick leather belts and had longswords and shields. When she looked up farther, she realized the man who she was looking at carried a staff with a brilliant red jewel at the tip that was as terrifying as it ws beautiful.

She swallowed hard and pushed herself to her feet. "Please!" She cried, grasping at the man's robes. "My friend-" She turned and looked down at Alea. The other girl was face down in the mud and wasn't moving. "Alea!" Marian gasped and would have fallen to her knees had the man's hands not already closed over her upper arms. "Let go of me!" She kicked her feet as hard as she could as she was lifted off of the ground. She wriggled against the man's grip in vail, too tired and too small.

The men laughed and spoke again, and the man holding her took her away from Alea's motionless form and then set her down in front of another man with a staff. She looked up at the man with wide eyes and heard a clink of glass.

She saw a flash of blue and the light she had sensed in the swamp exploded behind her eyes. Her tiny hands grabbed at the flask offered to her, but she was denied. Instead, a rough hand pulled her head back by her hair, and another pushed her lips open. The bright blue liquid splashed into her mouth, tasting like summer and sweat and Pito's blood. She cried against the taste, but after a while she was gripping the flask again, drinking up every last drop.

The hands released her and the men fell back, laughing again. Marian's entire body felt rigid, and then fluid, everything in between. It was as if a bolt of lightning had struck right between her eyes. Then, she heard the familiar skittering and she whirled about, just in time to see the spider crashing through the treeline.

She heard a crackling like a great bonfire, saw a flash of fire that nearly blinded her, and then the spider was letting out a horrible shriek, writing as vicious tongues of flames consumed its legs and head.

Then, darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

The grand arena in Minrathous was full to bursting with a crowd the likes of which it had not seen in three decades, or so Marian had been told. She had only been living in the Tevinter capital for thirteen years, so she wouldn't have known the largest crowd in arena history from the usual mass of spectators who came to watch the warriors tear each other apart.

"Marian, look-" Leona, her fellow mage and also a slave-apprentice of the magister Fulvius, said, her eyes shining as she pointed to the southern corner of the arena. "-it's Geren!"

"I've seen your brother fight before, Leona." Marian replied in a bored tone.

"But he looks like he's losing.." The other girl continued, undaunted by Marian's attitude.

Marian let out a sigh and turned her eyes to where Leona was pointing. It did indeed seem that Geren was losing, rather badly. "He's off-balance again." She said mildly. "Fulvius will box his ears for that."

"I suppose he'll deserve it." Leona said with a sigh.

"It's for the best." Marian said with a small shrug, watching with her lips pursed as Garen leaped out of the way of his opponent's sword, only to stumble over his own feet and sent his shield toppling to the ground. "You don't want him dying in the tournament, do you?" She asked, and turned his head to raise her eyebrows at her friend.

"Of course not!" Leona said with a shake of her head, sending her golden curls bouncing. "I want him to win!"

"Well, then you had better tell him to take his boxing and- what?" A strange look had appeared on Leona's face, and Marian frowned. "What, Leona?"

"Look, it's Danarius' envoy.." There was a tone of awe in Leona's voice that Marian understood completely. She bit down on her lower lip and turned her gaze to the eastern enterence of the arena's stands.

Danarius. The name of the man was enough to cause a chill to run through the veins of every mage in the Imperium. He had consorted with the kind of spirits that slave-mages like Marian and Leona could have only dreamed about. His warriors were the best trained, his apprentices had access to ancient knowledge that would have made the most fearsome Magisters drool into their robes. He had been commended by the Divine for his services to the Imperium, though Marian did not know why. She doubted that very many citizens of the imperium actually did.

The man was dressed in elaborate scarlet-colored robes that were embroidered with gold thread. He wore a heavy hood upon his head that cast his face in shadow. He held a staff in his hand that was deceptively plain, a long black shape that seemed to repel all of the light that fell on its form. He entered the arena with an entourage consisting of a half-dozen well-armed guards and crossed to the raised platform in the center of the field where the master of ceremony, Caelus, stood. The two men immediately fell into deep conversation.

"Do you think it's true?" Leona asked quietly. "That the winner of the tournament will receive power beyond measure, mage or not?"

"Danarius has abilities would make Fulvius' head explode just from thinking about them." Marian replied with a small shrug. She squinted down to where Geren was standing. "I'm sure whatever the prize is, it's worth fighting to the death. Geren's done sparring, we should go down to him, see what we can do for his wounds before Fulvius comes back."

Leona nodded, and they drew away from the railing to head down the steps and into the slave quarters, their bare feet drawing up dust from the smooth white stones that made up Tevinter architecture. There was an enormous statue with its brightly colored face twisted into a grotesque version of a smile - Toth, the Tivinter god of fire grimaced down at the gate that led to where the slaves went to prepare for combat.

They found Geren sitting on a bench in a corner of the quarters, past a mass of slaves, all of which were making ready for their fights in their own ways. Geren was holding a roll of bandages and was fumbling over himself trying to bind it around his upper arm.

"Let me." Marian said with a sigh, and Geren turned his large blue eyes up towards her. His face flushed and he nodded. Sometimes Marian wished that Fulvius hadn't cut out his tongue, She wondered what he would have had to say to her, beyond longing glances and the blush in his cheeks.

"It was that Leto again, wasn't it?" Leona sneered.

"Shush, Leona." Marian hissed, and pressed the palm of her hand to Geren's wound, letting a wave of blue light wash over his skin. "He's just over there, you know."

"With that sister of his." Leona muttered, shooting a resentful glare over her shoulder. "Elves." She muttered to herself.

"Leona." Marian exclaimed with a short, barking laugh, "You're an elf."

"Well, yes." Leona muttered, as if she was annoyed with being reminded of the fact. "But they're both so terribly obvious about it."

"I don't know, your ears are just as pointy as her's.." The right corner of Marian's mouth twitched up into a smirk at her friend's expense. "Plus, Varania has magic, just like us. She can't be that bad." She smoothed a hand over Geren's skin and gave his shoulder a pat, then unwound the bandage from his harm. "There," She said, "Good as new."

Geren smiled shyly up at her and gathered up his longsword and shield from the ground. Marian took a coin from the pouch on her belt and pressed it to his palm. "Take your sword to the blacksmith, and make sure to watch that blackguard, so he doesn't take your silver and give you a half-dull blade."

The mute warrior nodded and was quick to escape from the two chattering apprentices. Once he had gone, Leona took his seat on the bench, and pushed her fingertips through her hair. "Do you think he has a chance?" She asked Marian as the other girl took a seat beside her, her voice only loud enough to rise above the muted chatter of slaves and the clanking of swords.

"As much as anyone." Marian reassured her. "I heard that Leto's master isn't even going to let him fight in the tournament, anyway. He doesn't want to lose him to Danarius when he could use him against the heathens. Geren will win." Marian continued, determined. "And then you'll be made a real apprentice instead of just a slave-mage, and you and Geren will go off and have marvelous adventures with Danarius, and you'll leave me behind to wipe the drool from Fulvius' chin once he's old and gray."

"Well, I still hope Leto steps on a spike." Leona muttered.

That night, Marian and Leona were eating dinner in the servant's quarters when they heard a trumendous shout from the main hall of Fulvius' mansion.

"You useless idiot!" Marian and Leona jumped to their feet and scrambled to the doorway, and watched as their master aimed a particularly savage kick to Geren's gut. "Those gauntlets cost me ten-thousand andris, stupid knife-eared slave bastard!"

The air crackled around their master. Marian could find no humor in the sight of his bald head and thick gray beard. Fulvius may have been a scheming oil-stain on the illustrious history of the Tevinter magisters, but he was still a magister, and a powerful one. A dangerous one. "You will go to the arena and retrieve them. Tonight!"

"Leona!" Marian hissed and reached out a hand to grab for her friend's robes, but to no avail. The elf raced from the doorway and threw herself between Fulvius and her brother.

"Please, master!" She exclaimed, falling to her knees in supplication. "Geren cannot go out at night alone! He - he could be taken!"

"How dare you-" Fulvius said with a scowl.

"I'll go!" A sudden terror had snapped around Marian's chest and caused her to surge forward. She swallowed hard and gripped at her robes with both hands as she bowed her head to Fulvius. "Master, I would be honored to accomplish this task for you." She murmured, and shot a glare that was full of theatrical venom towards Geren and Leona. "To rectify the folly of these elves."

"Ah-ha!" Fulvius exclaimed, "Now, here is a servant who knows her business." He let out a low chuckle, "Very well. Begone!" He snapped to the elves. Geren was quick to scramble to his feet and pulled Leona with him back to the slave quarters. Once they were alone, he removed one of the great jeweled rings from his fingers and handed it to Marian. "I cannot trust such a thing to the knife-ears, but this will keep the temptation of you you from wandering eyes." When Marian hesitated, his voice lost its kindness. "Put it on!" He snapped.

Marian fumbled with the ring, it was made of gold, heavy, and too large for any of her fingers, and so she slipped it onto her thumb. "Master." She murmured, and bowed her head again. She was quick to exit the mansion, reluctant to leave Leona and Geren at Fulvius' mercy, but also eager to retrieve Geren's gauntlets so that their master might be placated. The mansion was not very far away from the arena, and she found it easily, despite the darkness and cloying stench of Minrathous' blood-soaked night.

She heard a scream come from one of the estates as she passed through the gate into the slave quarters of the arena - no doubt some poor soul being sacrificed to one demon or another for their master's benefit.

The slave-quarters were empty. Marian moved through them quickly, turning over discarded cloaks and broken shields until, finally, she found Geren's gauntlets. At first she tried tucking them under one arm, but the leather was too soft and they slid from her grip - undoubtedly this was how Geren had lost them, himself. Since the gloves had been made for an elven male, they would fit Marian nearly perfectly. She pulled them on and resolved to keep her hands tucked into her robes so that no one would think she had stolen them.

Marian was just about to leave the arena when she heard the sharp clank of metal upon metal and then the thud of a blade sinking into something soft. Her eyes widened slightly as she realized that the arena was not empty. Curiosity dictated that she at least take a look, and so she made her way to the main arena.

There, his sweat and inky black hair illuminated by an impossibly bright sliver of moonlight, was Leto. His entire body seemed to be heaving from the force of his exertions. She watched unblinkingly as he pulled the blade of a sword that was as long as he was tall from the ground with apparent ease. He had set up a ring of two dozen practice dummies around himself. Nearly every single one was missing their arms, one of them had been cleaved in two, and five were missing their heads. Each one had a scavenged piece of armor protecting a different vital spot, and each piece of armor seemed to have been damaged beyond any possible further use.

Marian let out a breath as the elf heaved the enormous sword to his back. It looked incredibly heavy. She thought of feathers, of clouds, and of the feeling of soft, clean cotton on her skin, and soon enough, she felt herself reaching out through the Veil for Leto's sword.

Leto started when he caught a glimpse of a tendril of pale blue light creeping across his forearm. "I know you're there, mage-!" He called, resentment coloring his smooth voice. "Show yourself!"

"Sorry-" Marian slunk from the shadows with a sheepish smile, her face feeling hot. Leto seemed surprised by her appearance, no doubt she did not look like the type to be sneaking around after dark, she wasn't showing nearly enough cleavage, for one thing. She stepped heel to toe until she was standing just outside the circle of training dummies. Their eyes met, lingered, and then they both looked away at the same time. He pulled the greatsword from his back and frowned down at it, while Marian's attention turned to the training dummies.

"I didn't know Caelus allowed slaves to use his training materials." She said finally, once it seemed that Leto was convinced she had not cast some horrible hex on his sword.

"He doesn't." Leto grumbled. "I have to mend them before his guards come at first light."

"First light?" Marian echoed. "Do you mean to tell me that you plan on mending these things all night? When will you sleep?"

"I will not." He said firmly.

"But the tournament is tomorrow.." Marian replied, her eyebrows rising.

"It is no concern of yours, mage." He snapped back with a scowl, though for a brief moment, she saw a sliver of hopelessness, as if he was a curtain, momentarily blown back by the daunting task ahead of him.

"I could help." Marian said. She fell silent and thought intently of puzzles, and slowly but surely the training dummy that was closest to her began to knit itself together. Pieces of straw rose in swirling clouds, glinting in the moonlight, and then joined with the dummy's form.

Leto watch the magic with the quiet mixture of reservation and apprehension of a born Tevinter slave. "You're one of Fulvius' servants, aren't you." He muttered. "I have seen you before."

"I've seen you, too." Marian said, and walked on to the next dummy. Puzzles, tapestries, and the glow of a lamp in twilight. The second dummy shone blue and reknit itself. "I am no servant." She added, "But a slave, like you."

"Humans can't be slaves." Leto scoffed. "You have magic, you must be an apprentice. And a poor one, to be so old and still under a fool like Fulvius.

"Poor humans can." Marian decided not to argue further, instead she looked down to her feet and drew a circle in the dirt with the pointed tip of her boot. "I can balance that sword for you." She said, "If you do something for me."

Leto's brow furrowed. "What do you want?" He asked, careful to turn and to not expose his back to Marian as she rounded him to reach the rest of the training dummies.

"Geren." She said softly, upon reaching the very first dummy. "One of the slaves you sparred with today, the mute?" When Leto nodded in recognition, Marian continued, "Don't kill him when you face him. That's all I ask."

"Why?" Leto asked disdainfully, "What do you care for an elven slave?" His upper lip curled into an ugly sneer, and Marian suddenly remembered that she was speaking to a stranger, rather than someone she had known all her life. "You want to save his blood for yourself? Or has he become your pet?"

It was true that Fulvius had exposed his apprentices to blood magic, but Marian's sacrifices were always nameless slaves. She wouldn't have dreamed of doing anything along those lines to Geren. As for the 'pet' comment.. "Geren is my friend." she insisted, "And his sister would be so heartbroken-"

The word 'sister' seemed to cast a spell on Leto that no mage or magister could have ever managed. "Very well." His expression softened somewhat, though he still regarded Marian with suspicion. "What can you do with my sword?" He asked.

"I can make the grip smaller so that it fits your hands, and I can balance the weight of the blade to the pommel." Marian said, and took a step towards Leto, reaching out her hands for the sword. He handed it over, and Marian's arms were quick to give out against the weight. "Oof-" She grunted, and finally Leto cracked a smile.

"It's- heavier than I thought!" Marian was unable to keep the surprise from her voice, "I mean, it looked very heavy, but-" She shook her head, and gazed at Leto in wonderment. "It must have been made for a heathen, or a knight, or-"

"-a templar." Leto's tone was smug.

"A templar?" Marian echoed. She looked down to the blade and saw an etching of Andraste's flaming sword on the rain guard of the hilt. "How- strange." She murmured, and pulled off both gauntlets, dropping then to the ground. "Give me your hand." She said, and when she was met with his apprehension, she shook her head, "Or at least your forearm, just a touch. I need to know you, or else how will I know what to do with the sword?"

He held out his arm to her, slowly, and she held out her hand to touch his skin with the lightest weight that she could manage. She closed her eyes and focused on his arm and the blade of the sword, pressing through the Veil. She imagined with all her heard that the blade was becoming an extension of Leto's arm. When she could pull them no closer together in her mind's eye, she released the blade, but found that her connection to Leto's skin was not so easily given up.

"Even with a sword that's right for you, the tournament won't be easy." She murmured, her eyes still closed, her mind's eye enthralled. "You know this, but you also know what you're fighting for, for your- sister? Mother?" She felt a tremor go down her spine, "You- you're participating because- you can get freedom for them, and you will receive power from Danarius." Suddenly, she saw a flash of blue and she saw herself straining through the veil to Leto's skin, such a very bright blue that it was white.

She was sent flying back into the far wall. A moment later there was a hand, impossibly strong for an elf's, curled around her neck. "What did you do, mage?" Leto growled, his breath hot against her face.

"Nothing." She gasped. "Nothing. I was only looking-" She started, "You know- you know what the prize is, for the tournament! It's lyrium, burned into your skin! You heard Danarius talking about it to Caelus.." Fear gripped her chest, she had to warn Geren, had to keep their master from forcing him to compete, somehow- "It must be my master's ring." She added quickly, "It- it must have lyrium in it - augmented my magic somehow, I didn't know!"

He was burning so brightly that the hand around her neck felt as if it might crush straight through her skin. "Did Fulvius send you?" Leto snarled, "To divine the reward from me? You magister whore-"

"Yes-" Marian whimpered, "I mean- no! He sent me, but not- I didn't know you would be here. Geren's gauntlets, that's what I was sent for! Not you-" But she did want him now, for those moments, she coudn't remember ever wanting anything more. "Please," She moaned softly, "I have to have- have to- you-" She tried to dig her nails into Leto's skin, but he pushed her away.

The veil over her eyes snapped away once the connection between them had been severed. But it was too late, the expression on Leto's face was so savage, she felt a stab of pure fear. "Don't touch me!" She cried, stumbling backwards, but he surged forward, reaching for the front of her robes to yank her towards him.

"Tell anyone about the prize," He hissed, "And I will kill you." He pressed her into the wall, pushing on the hollow of her throat.

"I won't-" Marian cried, "I don't want anything to do with you- slave!" The air burned around them, he pushing with brute force, she building up an energy that surrounded her entire body. This time, she shoved, throwing him backwards with a crack as loud as lightning. She slid down the wall, putting her hands over her face, her shoulders shuddering. When she looked up again, Leto had picked up his sword and slung it across his back. He turned away from her, obviously disturbed, and began limping towards the slave quarters.

"Don't die!" She called after him. If he died, where would all that beautiful, bright light go? "The light-" But there was no light. Dense clouds had come to cover the moon, and a rumbling to the east told Marian that a storm was on the horizon. Despite the warm air of the northern night, Marian shivered, tightened her robes around herself and fled the looming shadows of the arena.


End file.
